Desperation Reflected
by Kat Doll
Summary: Arnold's wife was always helping out the downtrodden. One day she comes across Helga being abused and decides to take the woman in, not really knowing the conflicting history the two blonds share. Arnold/Helga, Arnold/OFC, Wolfgang/Helga, Gerald/Nadine Infidelity, domestic abuse.


Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and company. I do not earn any profits for this story.

Full Summary: It's been years since Arnold and Helga graduated from high school. Arnold got married and had the family he always wanted, while Helga ended up in an abusive relationship, raising a child she never wanted. Then one day Arnold's wife comes across Helga being abused, and decides to make the woman her next charity chase, not realizing the conflicting history the two blonds share.

Meanwhile, Helga's son is causing havoc all over school, he takes an obsessive interest in Gerald's daughter and will do anything to get her attention, even if it means being a complete jerk.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, I hope this is the kind of story you're looking for. For those that don't remember me, I'm the writer of Ask Geraldine, Bitter, and a few other stories on here. I really missed the Hey Arnold fandom, it's nice to be writing here again.

* * *

Desperation Reflected

"Mr. Pataki, I will only ask you this one more time. Did you _shove_ Trish Johanssen into the dodge ball cart after practice?"

"I already told you, no. You know how much of a klutz she is, it's not my fault she didn't watch where she was going." Howie said, smiling derisively at the woman seated across from him. "Besides, even if I did, what are you going to do about it, suspend me? Oh the horror, I get a couple days off of school."

Dean Wright narrowed her eyes at the petulant boy. Howard Pataki was by far the worst student that had ever entered Hillwood Academy. He was lazy, insolent, showed no sign of remorse, and was a bully in every sense of the word. She lost count at how many times she had to bring the boy to her office. "I ought to expel you! Ms. Johanssen said you've been harassing her since freshman year. The poor thing was in tears. She also said you gave her friend Theodore Lloyd a black eye last week."

Before Howie could speak, the office door slammed open. Helga Pataki looked murderous as she stalked across the room, the blonde had been called from the diner where she worked and was still wearing her waitress uniform; the sight of her hat with the 'Baby George's Southern Style' insignia and grease-stained apron made Howard flush with embarrassment.

"So, what did my darling boy do this time?" Helga asked, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Ms. Pataki, so kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. Please have a seat." Dean Wright said in a clipped voice. "I was told by Ms. Johanssen that your son has been bullying her and her friends on a regular basis."

Helga's eyes widened in recognition at the name. "Johanssen, as in Gerald Johanssen's daughter?"

Dean Wright nodded, "Ms. Johanssen also said that he deliberately shoved her when she bent down to tie her shoelaces.

Face ashen, Helga turned and grabbed her son by his sleeve, shaking him. "You beating little girls now, Howie?"

"She's lying!"

"Ms. Pataki, I saw the bruises with my own eyes."

"Look, I'm on my lunch break, just tell me how long until his suspension is over." Helga asked with a defeated sigh.

"Oh no, this school has a strict policy against bullying. Due to the fact your son has refused to change his ways, he will be promptly expelled.

"No, you can't just give up on him like that. My son belongs here at Hillwood Academy, it's the safest place for him right now."

"There are plenty of other schools in his own district where he can go to."

Helga shook her head, "He's been expelled from all the other schools downtown. Please, you want someone to take the blame, blame me for working overtime every day to make ends meet. I can't be there to watch everything he does. Suspend him if you must, but don't throw him out."

The room fell silent as the Dean thought it over. "I must take this up with the school board," she finally said with a long sigh, "for now I'm giving your son a two week suspension.

"Thank you, Dean Wright." Helga nudged her son's arm, throwing him a scathing glare. "Say thank you to the nice lady."

"Thank you to the nice lady." Howie sneered, rising from his chair. "It was great chatting with you, Suzanne—oops, I mean Dean Wright."

* * *

"You just had to mock the woman" Helga said, stomping over to the blue Honda Civic parked outside the school building. "Now she'll never let you come back."

"At least I didn't grovel, you were so pathetic."

"That groveling was for you, you little ingrate!" Helga hated the uncanny resemblance she shared with her son, it was like looking into a mirror. He had the trademark Pataki monobrow, glaring blue eyes and sunflower-blond hair, but unlike her long tresses, his had been shorn into a buzz-cut after a year in Juvenile detention. The only thing different was his towering height and sinewy build, which he got from his no-good father. Just the thought of the man had her seething.

"Whatever, just get in the car." Howie said, climbing into the passenger seat.

* * *

"Helga, there's my star waitress. What took you so long?" Baby George was the large, portly owner of the diner where Helga worked. He might as well have been a customer with the amount of time he spent sampling his own food.

"Sorry, Baby George. It was a family emergency," Helga said, "and I thought Brenda was your star waitress."

"She was until she upped and quit today, by the way I need you to take over her tables for me. Don't frown like that, you know you love being the star."

"I love getting raises too." Helga hinted, but the man had walked off in search for another slice of cheesecake.

It was rough being a single mom, with a job that only paid minimum wage. Howie's father was a deadbeat, he could almost never hold down a job, and he had a gambling problem. Most of the reasons her bank account was so empty was because he always drained it the minute she put something into it. The only reason she was able to afford to send Howie to private school was because of Rudi, her ex's father. He was a landlord of the building Helga lived, he wasn't the friendliest of people, but he loved Howie and did everything for him.

By the time happy hour rolled by, Helga was busily making her rounds with a fake smile plastered on her face; she was so ingrained in her job that she didn't even blink when one particular customer, emboldened by his coworkers kept shouting orders-"No, you idiot! I said I wanted Zinfandel!" Years ago she probably would have dumped the wine all over his stupid toupee, but now she couldn't afford to be so reckless.

"I'm sorry about that, sir. Here let me fix that for you." Helga said stiffly, she started to reach over the table, but one dark-haired woman sitting at the table stopped her.

"No, you don't have to do that. Arthur please, there's no need to yell at the poor woman."

The man seemed to quiet down after that, almost shrinking underneath the woman's stern gaze. It was obvious who the leader in the group was.

"Would you like a refill, ma'am?" Helga asked, trying to keep the mood light, she didn't want the other customers at the table to think she was a bad waitress and not tip her.

"No, thank you." The woman squinted at Helga's nametag. "You have such a unique name. Let me guess, German?

"I believe so."

"Strange...I don't think I ever met any Helga's in my life, but I feel as if I've seen you before. Did you go to Stanford by any chance?"

Helga stared dumbfounded at the woman, and so did the others at the table. "Lady, if I went to Stanford I'd be working in that fancy office across the street with the rest of you guys, rather than waiting tables in this dump." Well, so much for that tip.

The woman burst out laughing. "Now I know we've never met, no one but my kids can make me laugh like that.'

Helga, not knowing how to respond to that smiled nervously. "Well, enjoy the rest of your meal." She nodded at the rest of the group and was about to turn when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her torso. Instinctively she recoiled, this wasn't the first time a customer had gotten handsy with her. Summoning the meanest look she could, she twisted around ready to strike the man.

"Helga, baby!"

"Wolfgang, what are you doing here?" Helga gasped, staring up at her ex. Their time apart hadn't done the man any good, dark shadows lined his eyes and his stubble had grown into a full beard.

"I need to talk to you. Please don't shut me out again." He pleaded.

"Keep your voice down!" Helga snapped, glancing nervously at the table of onlookers behind them. She grabbed his arm and frog marched him out into the cool, September air. It was late afternoon and the sun had begun to lower, casting their shadows onto the sidewalk.

"Why did you come to my job?"

"Come on, babe. You know why-I missed you, I want us to be a family again." Wolfgang wrapped his arms around her, pulling her smaller frame against his. She tried to pull away but despite his haggard appearance he was much stronger than her. Sighing, she stilled her body, allowing him to hold her as if nothing had changed.

"How's Howie doing?" He asked, resting his chin on her head.

"Not so good, I had to go to his school today. It would help if you were around more, maybe then he wouldn't act out so much."

"How could I? Dad threatened to call the cops on me the last time I was at the apartment."

Helga sighed, "This is so messed up." She pressed her face into his shirt, breathing in the musty scent of cigarette smoke. "I shouldn't even be talking to you."

They were toxic for each other. Helga was fully aware of the dangers she risked each time they spent together, but no matter how hard she tried to stay away, he'd always find a way back into her life. The son they had together was a link she couldn't shake. She didn't want a man in her life, but the mother in her wanted to have a father for her son. It was that desperate need that made her take comfort in Wolfgang's presence.

"Please say you'll take me back." He said, clinging to her like a second skin.

Helga remained silent for a long moment as she thought it over, then finally she shook her head and said, "I can't, Howie will kill me if he thinks were seeing each other again." When she pulled away, Wolfgang was glaring at her.

"You just said you wanted me around more."

"Yes, so you can make things right with our son. Just because we've broken up, doesn't mean you don't have to be Howie's father anymore."

"See, that's the reason why he's so messed up, you're always catering to him. Hey, don't walk away from me-" He grabbed both her wrists when she tried to turn around, "You seeing someone else, is that why you don't want me anymore?"

"NO, let go of me." Helga winced as her struggling only tightened his iron-like hold on her wrists.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not seeing anyone else! Wolfgang, please, I'm still at work. People will see."

"So what, I'm an embarrassment to you now?" Wolfgang shook her so hard that her hat toppled off her head.

"Let go of her right now!"

Both heads turned as the dark-haired woman from the diner quickly made her way over to them, her whole body was trembling, but it had nothing to do with fear. She looked positively outraged.

"I have mace and I'm not afraid to use it." The woman dug through her Marc Jacob bag, items spilling out on the ground around her, until finally she pulled out the tiny spray bottle.

"This got nothing to do with you lady." Wolfgang said, eyeing the woman wearily.

"No it doesn't, but I refuse to see a fellow woman be bullied by a man twice her size." The woman glanced over at Helga "Do you need me to call the cops for you?"

"Oh, no, no! That's really not necessary." Helga said, her eyes widening along with Wolfgang's. They both had bad experiences when it came to cops. Helga still had nightmares about the time she was dragged off to prison in her final year of high school. Wolfgang's record was far worse than hers, he'd spent nearly half of Howie's childhood behind bars. "Thank you for trying to help, but everything's fine. He was just about to leave anyway, weren't you honey?"

Wolfgang narrowed his eyes at the blonde, "I'll leave if you want. But I'm taking my family back, whether you like it or not." He walked away, ignoring the other woman who still had her mace bottle trained on him.

"I better get back to work." Helga said turning her back to the woman.

"Wait!" The woman ran over to her, she dug in her purse and pulled out a pamphlet. "Here, take this. If you ever feel like you or your child is in danger, go to this address. My friend works there, it's a really nice place."

Helga took the pamphlet, her cheeks reddened when she saw the words 'Hillwood's Domestic Abuse Shelter' written across in bold letters. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not some abused victim, and I won't be staying at any shelters."

"But-"

"Look lady, you don't know me from a can of paint. Who are you to make assumptions about my life?" Helga tossed the pamphlet on the ground and marched back towards the diner, stopping for a moment to snatch up her hat that had fallen on the ground earlier. She fixed it back on her head with all the dignity she could muster and disappeared through the glass doors.

* * *

"It was awful. It was like she didn't want to believe the truth." Claire said to her husband later that day. They were sitting in the dining room along with their two sons. The dinner had started out as a pleasant affair, but as the night drew on, she couldn't help but think about the troubled waitress she met at the diner. She angrily told her family about the abuse she'd witnessed that afternoon, what made it even worse was that there had been a crowd of onlookers from across the street, but nobody had come to the waitress's aid.

"She's probably in denial. Victims of domestic abuse often don't want to acknowledge the violent situation they are in." Arnold said, he worked as a psychologist in her father's office, almost fifty percent of his patients had been abused at some time in their lives. The frustrating part was that so many cases of domestic abuse often went unreported. "Sometimes it's because they want to protect the abuser, they might still feel a sense of attachment to them."

The woman nodded at his explanation. Arnold was always so good at figuring people out, he was able to read her right from the start. She remembered her first semester at Stanford and how they both collided into each other in the hallway, after picking up their scattered books, Arnold looked her straight in the eyes and said, "You're just as nervous as I am, aren't you?"

Since then they had been joined at the hips. What she loved most about him was the calm way he always presented himself. He didn't lose his head like she did at times, he was patient and understanding. That was why the situation with Helga and the man had left such a bad taste in her mouth. How could any man treat the mother of his child so terribly? If she had told Arnold to stay away and just be there for the kids, he would have respected her choice, not stalk her at her job and shake her around like some kind of ragdoll.

"B-but she can s-still leave him, right?"Arwinne, their oldest son had a speech disorder that caused him to stammer, he was very self-conscious and his cheeks flushed when all eyes at the table turned to him.

Claire reached over to pat his hand, "Let's hope so."

"What was this waitress's name anyway?" Arnold asked, taking a sip from his glass.

"Oh, her name was H-"

"Can we please talk about something more cheerful." Riley asked, pushing his peas around with his fork. He was the youngest son, and unlike his more subtle brother had no problems getting his thoughts across. "I rather not psychoanalyze a woman I don't even know, that's dad's job."

Just as he said that, Arnold's phone rang.

"It's one of my patient's, I gotta take this call." Arnold said, rising from his seat.

"Told ya!" Riley said, smirking at the other two.

"You're right, I shouldn't get involved in other people's business." Claire said once her husband left the room. "But…"

Riley sighed, "Don't tell me you're gonna make her another one of your charity cases."

"I don't have any charity cases."

"Oh really?"

"I don't!"

"Yes you do! Every year you find a new pet project. There was the homeless guy from down the street, that crazy cat lady-"

"T-the t-teen mom with the m-mustache." Arwinne cut in with a smile.

"You see, even my dear brother took notice." Riley said, "When will the vanity end, mom?"

"Okay, okay! I'll stay out of it. Happy now?" Claire said, throwing her hands up. "You know, there's nothing wrong with wanting to help others."

Riley rolled his eyes, "I don't know about helping others. But I'll help myself to some more of this delicious meatloaf, thank you very much."

* * *

AN: Should I continue, what do you guys think?


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